Erotic, romantic, passionate fiction for all your desires

Spank Me Hard… Please?

[No cats were harmed in the making of this blog. They all love to be spanked.] Exploring the psychology ‘behind’ spanking through fiction and poetry. Because, nothing says ‘I love you’ better than a red, sore, bare bottom. Comments welcome and discussion encouraged. I believe spanking between consenting adults leads to closer and more intimate relationships. Spanking is not a kink, not a fetish, not a lifestyle, but rather, a healthy and honest means of communication. Let your mind free and respect will follow. Contact me lurvspanking@gmail.com

There is comfort in anticipation

A little over six months ago, I started writing again after a 5 and 1/2 year break. Since that time I have written around 200,000 words. That includes all the new posts here, plus the second half of a novel, the first quarter of another novel, and three novellas.

Almost two months ago, I was invited to join the Paranormal Erotic Romance writers co-op, by my good friend, Ina Morata, who writes wonderfully inventive erotica on her website and in published works. The editor and publisher of the anthologies, Devi Ansevi, who also writes erotica, has taught me much about editing. I am in a state of nervous anticipation for my first published spanking erotica this January, 11th 2017.

If you are a constant reader here, then you know that my style of writing is very eclectic. I write in all points-of-view and tenses, and even dialogue without quotation marks. My fiction for publication – hopeful publication – is more literary and intense than my flash fiction I post here. In anticipation of the Lust in Lace anthology, I would like to offer you something in the style of my long fiction. This story is new, not an excerpt, and serves as an illustration of my focus when writing a novella or novel.

I will be posting another post with all the links, information and an excerpt after the Lust in Lace anthology goes live for purchase. There will be more details and information then about the next novella to be published for Lust in Spring, on March 20th, 2017.

Active Submission

A cool downdraft catches the burgundy-wine curtains. The sudden snap of cotton makes me jump. Through the open window of our bedroom, I can see lightning arcing in the dark sky. Too far still for thunder, the sound I hear is my heart pounding in anticipation.

Crack-snap, the fabric billows as the humid air rushes westwards: sucked into the storm’s base and thrust upwards with ferocious velocity, only to succumb to gravity’s embrace and return as gentle rain or harsh hail. Crack-snap. The steady whipping reminds me of why I am here, in the corner, like a naughty girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

Soon, I will hear his heavy tread on the staircase, the scent of his cologne will send tingles to my pussy and his hot breath on the back of my neck will weaken my knees. Crack-snap. Crack-snap. The pace intensifies, my bottom clenches and relaxes in harmony with the noise. It soothes me. It awakes my passion.

Several generations ago, the scene would have been cornstalks to beyond the vanishing point, our 1850’s farmhouse surrounded by arable land instead of by cookie cutter subdivisions filled with unhappy wives and distant husbands. My husband, Bradley, had recognized in me, what the farmer knew instinctively to expect from his little woman. Obedience and respect in return for protection and support.

Crack-snap. Our bedroom is a masculine statement of dominance, creamy oak four-post king size bed, original pine floors, the walls, maple wainscoting with forest green and silver paper above. The covers are a cool cotton to match the drapes. Pillows and bolsters in rich jewel tones will be tossed aside to sleep. When I am bent over the bed with a sham under my hips, my toes barely graze the throw rug.

Each time, every time I am spanked, it only reinforces our bond, and reassures me I’ve made the correct decision. I shiver, the cooling breeze caresses me, strokes my heated pussy, teases my puckered nipples; I wiggle, trying to catch the proper angle.

Crack-snap. Crack-snap. Crack-snap.

How I wish the noise was the result of the flogger instead of the drapes. He is diabolical in the way he pushes my buttons through words and deeds. I have done nothing to deserve this, and yet, have done everything.

A typical evening, home from work, catching up with social media, when he speaks. A low, husky drawl, filled with meaning and purpose: his voice slips through my barriers as if they were gossamer. I have no defense against his wiles: my feminine wariness of the male predator purrs instead of snarls. He is mine, she says every time, and rolls over in submission.

When he says, go upstairs and prepare, my mouth foolishly asks why. A raised eyebrow speaks volumes. I stand on shaky legs. He reminds me once more of my choice, discipline is his alone to decide time and place.

In my corner, arms behind my back, nude but for my collar, I am the freest I have ever been. My submission is a gift, not to him, but to me. I crave the anticipation of knowing that the pain he will give me, helps to shatter the paralysis in my soul. Each paddle blow heals, each swipe of the cane removes another layer of deadened emotions, each leather strand that scourers my back, tears away the sticks and stones of childhood misery.

When he whips me: crack-snap, I find my happy place is that much closer to becoming permanent.

The thunder is nearly constant now. The searing strobes of atmospheric electrical discharges flashes in the darkened room. In between beats, his steps come closer, I hear the knob turn, the door thumps against the stopper. My breath seizes with love and longing.

He runs his forefinger down my spine. I shudder out an exhale.

He kisses my nape. Tears spring to my eyes.

And when he firmly grips my buttocks and asks who owns you, I sigh, and reply, you do, sir.

I shudder out an exhale. Nice line. The name ‘Ina Morata’ looked familiar, so I went to the blog. Looking at the list of authors I tried to discern your nom de p… wasn’t hard… Byron Cane. After the good Lord (no not the Big one) and your favorite toy, I assume. Enjoy your stories and looking forward to seeing the published work tomorrow.

Oh wow. That is a compliment indeed. I didn’t recognise it but am delighted now you have told me that I found it so appealing to read. Further proof that I love my life. Yay 😀 missy (living the D/s fairytale)

All these days and only one hand

Corrupted

Now available, "Corrupted", an anthology from Sexy Little Pages, including my short story, Ghosting Past Emily. Click the picture for ebookstore links.

Ghosting Past Emily — part of the Corrupted anthology

After Amsterdam and Berlin, Tokyo was her favorite place to explore the latest in technological sexuality. Unlike in Europe though, in Japan she would always be gaijin, and the locals off limits to her needs. On the crowded streets of Ginza she felt the stares and heard the unspoken contempt, Go back to where you came from, which was something it had in common with America. She was too tall, too confident, too yellow and most of all, too female. She channeled the perceived insults into taboo actions.
It was a tired and bitter Emily that touched down ten hours later in a San Francisco of bone-chilling damp and a watery rising sun. She needed a hard session at the Armory before returning to work on Monday. Her slave had better be ready to grovel and be pussy-whipped.

Purchase: The Case of the Disciplined Valentine

Click the picture to purchase, The Case of the Disciplined Valentine.

The Case of the Disciplined Valentine

A comedy of Victorian manners mixed with delicious spankings and sexual encounters guaranteed to raise even a vampire’s blood pressure. Byron Cane sets a torrid pace in his historical paranormal erotic novella.

It is 1854 in steampunk London, and Sir Nachton MacRath is warily returning to his home isle after decades abroad. He has good reasons to steer clear of the Royal Family, but is immediately snared by the Queen herself, who anoints him, Her Chastiser of Loose Morals, complete with elevation to the upper reaches of the aristocracy. Rather than a quiet existence as a vampire, he is now a Peer uneasily rubbing shoulders with the most powerful men in the Empire.

Phoebe Hayward is a lady of good breeding, but like all her contemporaries, longs for some excitement and romance. Valentine’s Day is only weeks away, when their paths cross with a bump. Despite later discovering the man ordered to discipline her is actually a vampire, she can’t help falling in love. The more encounters with Sir MacRath she has, the more her body yearns to know what it is to submit to his vampiric touch. When he reluctantly agrees to be her Valentine, thus begins a Domination and discipline the likes of which she’s never dreamed.

MacRath doesn’t feel he deserves Phoebe’s love, and attempts to push her away by taking her deeper into sexual submission. She surprises him — and herself — by eagerly submitting to his every desire. Together, they explore the sensual heights that a woman and a man — a vampire — can reach. But politics and conflict are never far away, and the Valentine’s Day deadline comes all too soon.
Note: The original version of this book was included in the Lust in Lace paranormal romance anthology.

Purchase: The Spanking Misadventures of Stephanie

Purchase The Spanking Misadventures of Stephanie by clicking the picture.

Pity poor Stephanie: twenty-five years old and still spanked daily. She was intelligent, a college graduate with honors, articulate, a fashionista with a good job and an all-round delightful person with never a cross word and always a genuine smile for everyone. It was to her misfortune that she also exuded an innocent sensual charm, leading both men and women to have one uppermost thought in their minds: spanking Stephanie’s spectacular and epic rounded bottom. It was not her fault; genetics had blessed her with both the ideal rear end and a delightful bewildered submissiveness. It simply never occurred to her to challenge her discipline. If someone needed to spank her, well, obviously she was guilty of some offense and thus deserved to be spanked.
When Stephanie crashes (quite literally) into the life of Ross, high flying exec in the fashion world and eligible bachelor, she is stupefied he wants her as his. Under Ross’ tutelage, as Brat to his Sir, she learns that she can be spanked for more than just being naughty! And Ross — he discovers there’s much more to Stephanie than just her submissive need to be disciplined, as he falls more and more in love.
A brilliantly funny, light-hearted, spanking erotic romance novella by Byron Cane, with memorable characters and a beautiful love story interwoven into the sexiness, lending a contemporary twist to the princess fairy tale.

Lust in Spring

Click picture to go to Lust in Spring Amazon page

Lust in Spring anthology

In Byron Cane's, The Witch of Olympus Hollow, it’s 1952, and Gale Johnson is outraged when her parents send her packing to a tiny town in Appalachia to visit the mysterious great aunt she has never met. In the foothills of North Carolina, Gale will discover a wondrous birthright. A lifetime of discipline and sexual satisfaction awaits, but her destiny comes at a cost.

Lust in Lace

Purchase Lust in Lace on Amazon Kindle. Click picture to go to Amazon.

Lust in Lace anthology

In Byron Cane's Sir MacRath Thrashes his Valentine, MacRath is a centuries-old vampire returning home after decades of absence. It is 1854 in steampunk London, and Her Majesty has appointed MacRath Her Chastiser of Loose Morals. Phoebe Hayward is a lady of good breeding, but quite a handful. Despite discovering the man ordered to discipline her is actually a vampire, she can’t help falling in love. MacRath will ensure she is well punished and dominated in all ways as befits his naughty Valentine.

PNRLUST

Paranormal Erotic Romance

Come visit the Paranormal Erotic Romance website for information about the Lust anthology series. Read Lust by the Sea, Lust on the Wing, Lust in Tooth and Claw, Lust in Winter and Lust in Lace.

Paranormal Erotic Romance Anthologies

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‘Hit Me With Your Best Shot’ Oops. Does that date me? These are the top posts.

[No cats were harmed in the making of this blog. They all love to be spanked.] Exploring the psychology 'behind' spanking through fiction and poetry. Because, nothing says 'I love you' better than a red, sore, bare bottom. Comments welcome and discussion encouraged. I believe spanking between consenting adults leads to closer and more intimate relationships. Spanking is not a kink, not a fetish, not a lifestyle, but rather, a healthy and honest means of communication. Let your mind free and respect will follow. Contact me lurvspanking@gmail.com

[No cats were harmed in the making of this blog. They all love to be spanked.] Exploring the psychology 'behind' spanking through fiction and poetry. Because, nothing says 'I love you' better than a red, sore, bare bottom. Comments welcome and discussion encouraged. I believe spanking between consenting adults leads to closer and more intimate relationships. Spanking is not a kink, not a fetish, not a lifestyle, but rather, a healthy and honest means of communication. Let your mind free and respect will follow. Contact me lurvspanking@gmail.com

[No cats were harmed in the making of this blog. They all love to be spanked.] Exploring the psychology 'behind' spanking through fiction and poetry. Because, nothing says 'I love you' better than a red, sore, bare bottom. Comments welcome and discussion encouraged. I believe spanking between consenting adults leads to closer and more intimate relationships. Spanking is not a kink, not a fetish, not a lifestyle, but rather, a healthy and honest means of communication. Let your mind free and respect will follow. Contact me lurvspanking@gmail.com